


The Silver Butterfly

by Leventris



Category: Hannibal (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leventris/pseuds/Leventris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock take on a new case, but this specific case is more than they ever anticipated.</p><p>In deep Minnesota, things have taken a turn for the worse. The Chesapeake Ripper is still on the loose, and Will Graham seems to truly be the only one who could find the killer.</p><p>Follow Holmes and Watson as they track covered footprints to find out who this mass murderer really is. Johnlock and Hannigraham are the main ships in this story (eventually they'll be included).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Case

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place before Mary and John meet, and before Hannibal and Will meet Abigail Hobbs.

“Bored! John, I am absolutely and positively bored! John! JOHN!” Sherlock’s long fingers prodded at John’s side repeatedly, hoping to grab his attention. John sank back into his chair even more, pinching his nose out of frustration. Him and Sherlock haven't gotten a single case in two days, and already the consulting detective was jaded. Sherlock hunched over the chair and hovered over his flat mate, still poking at him.

“What do you want me to do about it? Look, why don't you watch the telly until Lestrade calls with a case? I'm sure we'll have one soon, and we can have another near death experience all over again.” Truthfully, John never minded difficult cases, except for when it seemed he was about to die, of course. The big cases weren't even the ones that he chose to remember most. Rather, he liked the side cases that weren't generally looked upon by anyone else. Nothing too unsettling, just more time of him and Sherlock together with no one else around to pester them. Those were the times that felt special to him that no one else could or would ever share.

Sherlock only scoffed. “Oh, it’s always about destroying our brain cells, isn’t it? Where’s the cold-blooded murder, the persuasion behind it all? I need something invigorating, something that will get my adrenaline up and going.” A thought crossed his mind, a pack of vanilla cigars that suit his fancy at the moment. Sadly, Sherlock knew he wouldn't be allowed one anyway since John told him to quit, so with a sigh he moved off to the side of the chair and kneeled to John’s level before looking him in the eyes. “Come on, I know you’ve got an idea. I can see it on your face, right there. You're also playing with your fingers, which shows a little bit of both anticipation and nervousness. Are you hiding something from me, John?”

The doctor stared back at those beautiful crystal blue eyes that gleamed a hint of green, then his sumptuous lips. He shook his head and became flustered. “What do you mean, you can see it on my face? Honestly, Sherlock, you are so obsessed with deduction that I think it‘s getting to your head.”

“And that’s what helps make me brilliant out in the field.” Sherlock stood back up and collapsed onto his spot on the couch. “So, you still have something to tell me, yes?” Sherlock knew something was off with the doctor’s feelings; he can't even count how many times he’s caught John staring at him while he was thinking around the flat.

“I’m sorry, hold on to that thought. I've got to take this.” The detective said as he pulled a ringing phone from his back pocket. John huffed a sigh of relief, glad that he didn't have to spill his dirty secret just yet. After only a few seemingly short minutes, Sherlock had gotten off the phone. “That was Lestrade, finally! It seems like we've got a case, and this one happens to be in another country.”

“Oh, bloody brilliant.” John said sarcastically, giving Sherlock an annoyed look. “Don't be like that. Get your things, John. We're going to America, Minnesota specifically.” When John didn't move, Sherlock shooed him off, “Come on, get going!”

“Can’t we pack later? I doubt we're taking our leave this afternoon or anything,” he tried reasoning with Holmes, in hopes of having time to themselves for a while, but it didn't seem to work.

“We are, actually. Lestrade wants us out of here to solve the case as quickly as possible.” Sherlock pat John’s back respectively and walked back to his bedroom to pack. John groaned and flopped onto the couch. Sherlock called from his behind his door, “Would you quit moping around? You're ruining my mood.”

He gave up with a sigh and went to his own room to pack.

After a while, John’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and noticed a text from Lestrade. ‘When you get to the airport, there will be a cab waiting for you. I had arranged with a man named Jack Crawford for you to stay at his place for as long as needed.’

‘You never told us anything about the case,’ He replied, continuing to pack until the phone buzzed again.

‘They've been trying to solve this one case for ages. Just brutal murder everywhere, it seems like, but the culprit is hiding himself very well, and it’s branching off into more and more murders. It’s just a mess, but I know you and Sherlock will figure things out in the end. Cheers!’


	2. A Wish For Sincerity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was revised and updated on August 31st, 2016. It needed some corrections and lengthening ^_^

It was dark when they arrived at the airport in Bloomington, Minnesota. John and Sherlock looked around the place curiously; it seemed so much different from home. A nearby lit road was vacant, it’s surrounding environment an expansion of heavy, lurking trees and fields of dead grass. The early morning air was as cold as winter, just without all the snow. John pursed his lips while Sherlock looked at him worriedly. The place didn't seem to have a warm welcome for them as much as they had hoped there would be.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll go look for our ride then.” John said quietly, probably to rid himself of the creepy aura for a short while. The consulting detective nodded in return and kept his hands hidden away in the depths of his pockets to keep warm.

While he waited, Sherlock decided to take a better look around now that there was nothing nor no one to distract him. The outside of the airport seemed mostly empty except for a few small groups of people waiting for their next flight and the occasional employee or two working about here and there, but they seemed useless to him for now. The environment, though, seemed all too silent except for some crickets chirping in the distance. It was a possibility that the animals that may have lived in the area didn't live around here anymore because of the aerial craft being a huge disturbance. At least, that's what he had assumed was the reason.

“Sherlock?” A voice came from behind. The detective spun around to see Dr. Watson looking at him with a relieved yet ever so slightly tense gaze. “Mr. Crawford is here. Come on, let’s go.” John lightly gestured at Sherlock with his hand towards the black SUV parked towards the end of the airport parking lot. Sherlock hesitated, quickly looking around one last time at the dead environment before nodding at John, following him to meet the one with his new case.

A tall, dark man stepped out of the left side of the vehicle and held his hand out for Sherlock to shake. “I’m Jack Crawford, Head of Behavioral Sciences at the FBI. You are Detective Holmes and Doctor Watson, I presume?”

Sherlock nodded and gave a short smile, avoiding the man's introductive gesture. "It's a pleasure." John gave a short glare at Sherlock for his incompetence and took Jack's hand in his own. "I apologize for his behaviour. The overnight plane ride here took longer than we would have liked."

"I understand," Jack said, nodding. His tone was light-hearted, matching his smile, but his face was filled with worry and..a hint of exhaustion, maybe? Sherlock noted his tense posture and weary eyes. This specific case must have really taken its toll on the man. He actually felt sympathetic for Jack, but only for a moment before his own exhaustion returned to him.

"I'll go on and take you to the car, then. We can talk about the case on the way to see a friend of mine. You'll be staying with him, rather than with me. It's safer there," Jack said carefully, as if anyone could be listening to them at the moment. John looked at Sherlock with longing, hoping the case would be solved quickly and they could go home to 221B Baker Street, to Mrs. Hudson and her bickering about how filthy the flat was. He longed for a moment of sincerity.

Sherlock noticed John staring again, but he chose to ignore it and instead replied to Jack. "Shall we, then?"

Jack led the way to a black vehicle and then they went, off into the black abyss of the morning without a sunrise, broken only by the occasional street light. The case hadn't even started and already John was hoping it would end soon. He felt like he wouldn't be very pleased with this one. Then again, when was he ever?


	3. Foreign Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize about having never updated this story in the last year. I will be updating "The Silver Butterfly" much more often. Thank you for staying with me this long!

The rising sun gave way to the nearby life that rose with it. Birds flew overhead, chirping their day away and more people were on the road to go to their jobs. The streetlights turned off, making Bloomington seem like a more livable place to the foreign investigative pair than it had when they first arrived.

Jack had been silent for a while, now. They had only been driving for maybe twenty minutes, and Jack had already described the basics of the case. A murderer, who was cleverly given the nickname 'The Chesapeake Ripper', was the cause of a myriad of killings and not one person has been able to get any leads on the man responsible. Well, except for one man who wasn't even originally on the case.

"So," John began, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Who is it that we shall be staying with again?" He readjusted himself in the backseat and clasped his hands together, looking at Jack while he drove. Sherlock shifted, sitting up straighter in his seat. Unintentionally, John had pressed himself closer to the detective and caught him off guard. The warmth that came from the smaller man made Sherlock feel something..different. It wasn't a bad sort of different, it was just unusual. Why did he feel that way? It was really unlike him. Maybe he should discuss it with John when given the chance later that day, maybe he would know exactly what this feeling was. His very own emotions and what their motives were was something that didn't correspond in Sherlock's brain.

"Will Graham. I had invited him onto the case to help us find evidence and further the case itself. Eventually, I contacted you guys for uh..more assistance when I knew he needed it," Jack paused for a moment, then laughed. "I hope you guys are okay with dogs, he has more than enough to love."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Jack's hesitation while John laughed a little to himself. "Dogs _are_ pretty adorable, especially the little scruffy black ones that you have to always push their hair away to see their eyes."

Jack was gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, and was even sweating a little bit, the detective noted. "John, I think you are referring to a schnauzer, yes?" Sherlock asked for a momentary distraction. John nodded with a childish glee in his eyes. "I don't think Mr. Graham owns any small dogs that fit that particular description, right Mr. Crawford?"

"Er, uh..no. No, I don't think so. Just some strays he's found over time." Jack relinquished a bit of his grip on the wheel.

Irritated, John glared at Sherlock. Sherlock returned the gaze, their eyes holding for a moment. For John, this glare of his was supposed to be somewhat rude to the taller man. For Sherlock, his returning glare was intended for the shorter man to realize Jack's nervousness at the mention of Will, but all John could think about was how he wanted to talk about his favourite type of dog and Sherlock had to spoil it yet again with his deductive tone. Sherlock sighed and looked forward again, clearly irritated that John didn't notice.

The remainder of the ride was filled with more silence. Jack was simply driving, too erratic to say anything else. Sherlock was analyzing the city around them, as per usual, and John was contemplating his feelings from the day before.


	4. An Unexpected Arrival

The silent drive to Will Graham's home became short-lived once the small one-story appeared through the thick of the trees. "Welcome to Wolf Trap, Virginia," Jack said reluctantly. John breathed a sigh of relief; he might be able to catch a nap. Sherlock, however, was twitching at the nerves. He hadn't moved in at least an hour and was desperate to get going on this case. The possibility of another near-death experience was something he missed oh, so dearly.

"Good luck, boys," Jack partially shouted through the car window to the foreign pair as they got out of the vehicle. Before John could thank him for the ride, Jack had already sped off.

"That was weird," John noted. He looked up at Sherlock for a sign of agreement, but it seemed those blue eyes were too busy looking at the dusty trail Jack's car left. John huffed a sigh of frustration, "Alright, I'll just go knock on the door then."

"No, don't bother. Nobody's home," Sherlock stated before turning to face Will Graham's home. The house itself was small but quaint, with a white wraparound porch and vines creeping their way around one side.

*Unfinished*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for putting up with my inability to update at decent times, let alone add more than a few sentences per update! I'm coming up on my spring break soon so I plan on dedicating a lot of my time to the story C:

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic, which I happened to start writing over two years ago. I just never got around to finishing it and eventually forgot about it until recently, so I decided to go ahead and -try- to finish it. Don't judge too harshly, I haven't watched either show in ages and I'm in the process of rewatching everything :)


End file.
